The Titus 2:4 Project - Women Mentoring Women

Tempers flaring, we stood toe-to-toe.   "Well, what did you expect? " He roared. "Not this! " Tears pooled in my eyes. I stormed away and locked myself in our room.   I don't even remember what we were fighting about that day, only how I felt when my expectations had not been met.  I felt like he just didn't care.  I was disappointed.    In all my years of marriage,  I have come to understand one thing.  Every single frustration, no matter what it's about or the degree of emotional turmoil, always boils down to one thing: unmet expectations.   I expected one thing to happen, and it didn't...or I didn't expect something to happen, and it did.  Plain and simple.    I expected a card for Mother's Day.  He forgot.  I expected him to let me sleep late on Saturday.  He woke me up before the sunrise. I expected him to put his dirty dishes in the sink before he ...

How many times have you been standing in the kitchen, up to your elbows in dishwater, damp dishtowel draped over one shoulder, and a pile of last night's dinner dishes teetering precariously on the counter beside you, when one of your children strolls in, rather nonchalantly and says, "Whatcha doin'?"  You pause briefly, raise one eyebrow and either a) bite your tongue and smile sweetly, responding, "nothin'...what are you doing?" (This response can be found in the How to be the MOM of the Year manual.) or b) you quip, "Baking a cake! What does it look like I'm doing?"  (thus loathing the sound of your own voice coming out of your mouth.) Sarcasm stinks.  But that's not the lesson I want to share today...we'll talk about that another day.  What I want to address today is the rhetorical questions that people ask.  Often we lovingly refer to them as 'stupid' questions.  I went to Dictionary.com and looked up the word rhe...

Sometimes God whispers to us. Sometimes He shouts at us.  But usually, it's just a normal, conversational tone...like today. The weekend is over and it's back to the grind.  At my house, that means hubby heads to Chicago again for a couple of days.  I took our youngest to school and dropped him off.  When I returned, Randy was dressed and ready to go, sitting at the dining room table with his laptop already fired up, tapping away at the keyboard.  I served up his favorite: eggs and toast with a 'go-cup' of coffee. I'm a multi-tasker.  I recently learned that multi-tasking is a fallacy.  We can't really do more than one thing at a time effectively.  Maybe that's true...then I just do lots of different things, one after another with no stopping in between.  While the eggs were frying, and the bread was toasting, I unload the dishwasher.  Flip the eggs.  Butter the toast.  Load the dirty dishes.  Serve the breakfast....